and hardship; the lines engraven upon his face were of extraordinary depth and frequency; there seemed to he little flesh between the dry skin and the bones which sharply outlined his visage. The lips were, like those of his son, prominent and nervous, but none of Bob's shrewdness was here discoverable; feeling rather than intellect appeared to be the father's characteristic. His eyes expressed self-will, perhaps obstinacy, and he had a peculiarly dogged manner of holding his head. At the present moment he was suffering from extreme fatigue; he let himself sink upon a chair threw his hat on to the floor, and rested a hand on each knee. His boots were thickly covered with mud; his corduroy trousers were splashed with the same. Rain had drenched him; it trickled to the floor from all his garments.
For answer to Sidney's question, he nodded towards his wife and said in a thick voice, "Ask her."
"He's dyed it," Mrs. Hewett explained, with no smile. "He thought one of the
